


Scarlet Pain

by gingersmitten



Category: Marvel vs. Capcom (Video Games), Street Fighter, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Rape, Ryona, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Torture, Whipping, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersmitten/pseuds/gingersmitten
Summary: Ken and Ryu have been traveling the world, looking for more challengers to face.  Yet following rumors of a powerful warrior hidden in a remote area in Russia has placed them in grave danger.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Please like and comment! It helps keep me motivated!
> 
> Again an old story I posted on Y-gal before it went down, and IIRC was a work that someone commissioned me to make. Normally I dislike crossover fiction since it comes off as a bit contrived, but since there's some official crossover between the Street Fighter and Marvel worlds, I'm pretty okay with having Omega Red make an appearance here. Especially given what he offers. ;)
> 
> Please be aware that the story can be pretty violent for some readers, so heed the content warnings. This work depicts violent, nonconsensual sexual encounters purely for the sake of kinky fantasy, and should not be considered reflective of the author's views on how sex should be practiced in real life. There is a hard line between the two. Please exercise active, informed consent and clear communication when having sex IRL, and take precautions to prevent either partner from coming to physical or emotional harm.

 

A dreadful silence cast a pall over the small town, even more stark after the three days they'd spent on the train. Then there'd been the constant rattle of the carriages, sweaty old men in their underwear arguing in Russian, young Slavs prodding the foreigners to share vodka with them. At first those youths tugged at their _karate-gi_ and muttered amused queries at each other, but once they recognized that Ken was an American they apparently expected him to buy drinks. Ken had grinned and asked if Ryu was in the mood to bloody a few noses, but a sigh and a shake of the head had settled the matter.

“Aw, you're no fun,” Ken had grinned, leaning back on his bunk and propping his feet up on a bag.

Now there was just the chill and windless air, the decrepit houses, the playgrounds with spring-rider horses coated in peeling paint. The village only confirmed what Ryu had already known the moment he and Ken stepped on the abandoned grounds.

Ryu always trusted what he could feel between his toes. Warm beach sand was soft and yielding to his steps, with the tide lapping at his ankles. Moist forest soil clung to his naked feet, the earth cool yet stirring with life. The concrete walkways of the cities were hot and unyielding against his toughened soles, and the sidewalks often clattered with the hard footsteps of the urban crowds.

Yet here the earth that rubbed between his toes was dry and dusty. It felt used-up: old and dead like crumbled snakeskin. Ryu hadn't noticed a sliver of green in this town, not the slightest blade of grass aching to sprout from this barren soil. An uncomfortable chill crawled up his spine, and he kept an eye out for a fountain or pond to wash his feet in. Then again, it might be best to remain wary of the water here.

The moment they stepped out from the humid air of the train Ken had tugged his belt off and pulled open the hem of his _uwa-gi_ with one hand, letting the cool, dry wind caress his body. He'd moaned in relief from the muggy heat of the carriages then, scarlet cloth flapping along his sides. He always liked to tug his _uwa-gi_ open whenever he could, baring his naked body to the wind. There'd always been a certain immodesty to his brother-in-training. Yet now Ken pulled the scarlet cloth close and looped his _obi_ around his waist once again, shivering and eyeing the surroundings suspiciously.

“Nice place you brought me to.”

“I wonder what happened here,” Ryu murmured, stepping lightly along the ground.

“This better not be a fucking Chernobyl.” Ken blinked. “Shit. Didn't they shoot a horror movie here or something?”

Ryu's only knowledge of the outside world was what he'd learned in his travels, but he'd heard of _Chierunobuiri_ before. “If this place had suffered such a disaster, there would probably be fences. Or signs to warn people to keep away-”

“Dude! I recognize that building! I think that's where Jesse McCartney was mauled in that one scene!”

“-so I don't think we need to worry.”

“Unless we get swarmed by mutants or something,” Ken mused. “I knew we should've brought Sean along... they always go after the black guy first. Or the slut. Or the stoner jackass.”

“Sounds like you're in trouble twice over.”

“That almost sounded like a joke.” The grin slid from Ken's face then, and he glanced around with a shrug. “I dunno, this place seems pretty quiet. How many martial artists did this guy beat?”

“Eleven top fighters if the rumors are true,” Ryu murmured. “Though not here... at least, I don't think so.” The ground hadn't been disturbed, the branches and stems of dead plants were unbroken. No old bloodstains marred the peeling walls. There wasn't a sign of combat anywhere.

“Dude sounds strong then. Man, why can't it be my turn to take this guy on? That Dan guy just _sucked_ so hard. I didn't even break a sweat kicking his ass.”

“We'll find someone stronger for you to challenge next,” Ryu smiled.

“Yeah well, hopefully this guy beats you... then maybe I can take a turn at him.” Ken pounded his fist into his palm, “I'm itchin' for a challenge.”

“If it's a challenge you want, I'll always spar you, Ken.”

“You lookin' for a fight?” Ken leaned in, eyebrows furrowed.

“If you're the only opponent I have here, then perhaps.”

They stared into each other's eyes, leaning forward, shoulders tensed as if in a challenge. The pair of martial artists circled one another on the dead ground: jaws set, fists clenched.

As always, the smile broke on Ken's face first.

“Yeah. Maybe another time.”

Ryu chuckled mildly. “Let's keep searching.”

His mirth was cut short when, out of the corner of his eye, Ryu noticed something slithering around the corner of the building.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Ken winced. “Shit man, could you be more specific? You're creeping me out.”

“I think it was a snake. Gray, maybe silver.”

“So what? Just leave it alone.”

Without a word Ryu rounded the building, while Ken sighed and trailed behind. There weren't any other animals to be seen. Long-dead grass meant there would be no mice, and without mice there shouldn't have been any snakes. Perhaps it was a silly thing to go on, but it was the first sign of life he'd noticed.

Behind the building Ryu's suspicions were confirmed. A zigzag trail whipped along the dusty ground, as if left by a serpent. Yet more telling were the bootprints beside those swirls, heading off between the trees towards an old and unused road.

“This way.”

 

__________

 

Tae Sae-Ryun knew he was dying.

He'd seen the last occupant of this cell before his captor finished him off. A thai kickboxer, still in his black shorts, ankles and wrists bound in linen wraps stained with grime and spots of blood. The poor fellow had been emaciated: gaunt, feeble, skin gray with a pallor that looked like he was near death. He'd been relieved when it finally came.

Now Sae-Ryun had taken that man's place.

Part of it was the sterile fluorescent lighting. His captor didn't bother to turn it off at night, perhaps even intentionally neglected to do so as part of the torture. He'd been left with no pillows or sheets to cover his face, and so he had to curl into a ball to keep the light from bleeding through his eyelids whenever he tried to sleep. Not a comfortable position. Several times he'd tried taking off his sleeveless taekwondo shirt for this purpose. The chills and aches that came when he woke were a poor trade-off.

Worse, the lighting was malfunctioning. It flickered and buzzed, like having a fly whizzing around the room, one that often circled around his ear, slowly driving him mad. That buzz ground at his thoughts like a mortar and pestle. Each hard flicker of the lighting, each small click of electricity stuttering through old wiring jolted him from whatever comforting daydreams he may have slipped into to escape from this hell.

No sleep. Barely able to think. Nothing but a bowl of cold mush every once in a while for food. A single week of this had been enough to leave Sae-Ryun pounding the door with both fists, begging to be released from the slow torture.

Now he felt so tired... so nauseous. Sae-Ryun barely had the strength to crawl towards his food dish. He could scarcely bring himself to eat. When he did, it took as much effort to keep it down.

Yet the worst were the daily sessions that left him choking with agony and unable to move. Afterwards he'd be left feverish and delirious, haunted by nightmares where pale serpents chased him through a blood-red mist. All he could do then was lie on the bare mattress and drool onto the padded floor, waiting for his limbs to stop feeling like they were made of lead... waiting for the burning sensation to recede.

Sae-Ryun whimpered at the sound of heavy boots approaching down the hall.

No... no, this couldn't be. It hadn't even been an hour since his captor's last visit. For an instant Sae-Ryun let himself believe that it was someone who would free him, that he could return home to his family. Yet those heavy footsteps had long ago become dreadfully familiar.

The door's heavy bars slid apart, and his captor grinned as he entered the cell.

“Wh-what is this?” Sae-Ryun swallowed. “Are... are you releasing me?”

“There are new warriors to replace you. Two, in fact,” the man spoke in Korean. His guttural Russian accent added a harshness to those words.

“P-please... can... can you let me go now?” Sae-Ryun begged. He was still weak from the last session, but he scraped his palms against the ground, dragging himself half-off the mattress so he could prostrate himself before his tormentor. “I... I wish to go _home_...”

“I've told you before... none leave this place.” A cruel grin spread across bloodless lips, “Not even the dead.”

“No no no...” Sae-Ryun whimpered, “Please no! I-I have a wife... I have a son... a baby daughter...”

His captor let out a cruel, harsh laugh. “It's been two weeks since you made the mistake of challenging me! You should know better by now. Do you really think I have any compassion to spare?”

“I... I can find others! I can find more warriors to challenge you! More that you can feed from!”

“No, little warrior. This time it isn't about sustenance... it's about _pleasure_ ,” his captor said tenderly, with the softness that came with death. His face was strangely gentle, and that only punctuated the sharp click of twisting metal coils, “Don't worry... it's quick.”

Even if Sae-Ryun had enough breath to scream, the cables were already choking him off.

 

__________

 

The asphalt road was old, chips of black concrete crumbling away to form a dark gravel that peppered the bare earth. They'd been walking for a hour by now, and a chill crawled up Ryu's spine. Ken had grown silent long ago, which was worrisome. Ken only became quiet when he was either in a great deal of pain, or on the rare occasion that he was genuinely afraid and too proud to admit it.

Ryu sighed. What he wouldn't give to see a sliver of green, or hear the chirp of a sparrow. There was only the light breeze pebbling his skin, and the steady patter against the earth as Ken urinated.

Ken's head was tilted back, and he perched on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth gently as he did when he was a boy. Despite the grim surroundings, Ryu found himself smiling. Ken always did have those immature little habits that he never lost, and whenever they were pointed out the guy always became incredibly petulant. It'd been the start of more than one fight between them, and often ended with hair-tussles and knuckles rubbed against skulls, usually with Ryu on the losing end.

“Oi, do you think we should head back?” Ken called over his shoulder, bouncing slightly to shake himself off. “We can get to the station, break out some instant noodles and wait for the next train.”

“No. There's someone here... I'm sure of it.”

“The place is fucking dead, dude. Who the hell would be here?”

“I sense it, Ken. You can head back if you wish... I'll only be a little while longer.”

“I'm not gonna puss out if that's what you're suggesting,” Ken scoffed. He gave a cocksure grin as he tugged up his pants and tied off his _obi_ again. “Fuck. You keep saying shit like that and I'll be the one challenging this guy instead.” He paused thoughtfully, “But if we don't find anyone in the next hour, we're heading back. There's a tournament in Seoul I wanna catch.”

Ryu nodded patiently. While Ryu wouldn't say no to a tournament, he much preferred the quiet dignity of a private fight. Tournaments were more public and ostentatious... qualities that were more to Ken's liking.

It wasn't much longer before the pair reached the end of the road, where a tall concrete wall had been laid into the side of the mountain. The double doors, a full three meters high, had the dull gray-brown color of a military installation. There was no one here though, and the guard posts were long abandoned. Paint peeled from the corners of those booths like old scabs.

“So this is it then.” Ken crossed his arms, still wary about whether there was anyone here or not. “Do we knock?”

Ryu placed his palm against the heavy metal door. He'd kept an eye on the asphalt as they walked. There were no footprints of course, no sign that anyone had been here in decades. Carefully he examined the door, looking for any sign that it'd been opened recently.

He hopped back and instinctively took on a fighting stance when the doors clanked and opened on their own.

The dark hallway beyond revealed itself in the crack of fluorescent lights continuing down its length. The walls were gray, metal panels spray-painted to a dull matte finish. The floor was dark, burnished concrete. Ryu didn't like this place. Everything they'd seen since they arrived was dull and lifeless: from the decaying village they walked through to this cold and sterile facility.

At the end of the hall another set of double-doors opened, an elevator to the floors below. There, the hidden warrior of this region stood with arms crossed and a broad grin across his features. He was tall and thick-shouldered, lumbering as he approached, crouched forward in a predatory way. Even leaning forward like that he stood a head taller than the pair, and with the thick bands of muscle layering his frame he must've weighed half again as much. The red tank top was tight over his chest, the crimson leggings he wore was made of some odd synthetic material that seemed to mold to his movements. Even his boots were scarlet latex.

Yet the most unnerving thing about this man was his chalk-white skin, tinged with a cool ice blue. As he came closer his eyes turned out to be a startling blood-red. An albino, perhaps? The features gave him a disturbing appearance, as if he were some beast of the snowy wilds.

“A pair of boys in _karate-gi_...” he spoke in harshly accented Japanese.

“Who the fuck are you calling boys?” Ken sneered, mouth curled in a lopsided grin.

“Then how old are you, if I may ask?”

That froze Ken's tongue. They were still technically teens after all, and this guy was approaching his forties by the look of it. The age gap was too stark to spare embarrassment.

“I am Ryu and this is Ken, students of Gouken- _sensei_ and practitioners of the _Ansatsuken_ style of karate,” Ryu bowed. “We've heard that you were a strong warrior, and would humbly challenge you to a match.”

The man stared at Ryu a moment before answering. “So formal. I am... Omega Red. I do not go by my given name anymore. I accept your challenge, though I'm sure the two of you would like to refresh yourselves before battle. Come.”

Ryu and Ken shared an unsure glance at each other before following down to the elevator, and down to a maze of corridors one floor down.

“So what was this place?” Ken piped up, hands tucked behind his head, strolling as if it were a relaxing Sunday afternoon at the park.

“A military research base, from fifty years ago.”

“Cold War era, eh? Weapons research then, cool stuff like that?”

“Yes.”

“We aren't sitting on anything nuclear are we? Cuz... well, the village outside...”

“It will not affect your health, if that's what you are asking,” Omega Red said coolly, “Much of it was metallurgical research, developing and grafting new alloys to weapons. The heavy metal runoff poisoned the water supply, and led to what you see here. So long as you do not drink from the ponds or the faucets outside of this base, you will be fine.”

“So what are you doing here then?”

“You talk a lot, boy,” Omega Red muttered, “I must presume that you are an American?”

“Keh!”

Ryu would've smiled if the oppressive hallways weren't suppressing his mood.

It was just another turn down the corridor before they arrived at a mess hall. Everything was still relatively clean. The tables were a little dusty, but not with fifty years worth of the stuff. The chairs were in order, with no noticeable rust. At worst the floor was icy beneath their bare feet, but for a guy who'd been walking barefoot in the snow since he was twelve, it didn't bother Ryu much.

“There are plenty of canned goods you can help yourselves to. Have as much as you wish, and down the hall and to the left there are sleeping quarters and showers. I will see you in the morning.”

With that, the man left. When the sound of his footsteps faded, Ken leaned in to whisper.

“Dude, that guy is creepy.”

“Perhaps,” Ryu murmured. He still wasn't sure whether it was Omega Red putting him off or the surroundings. He already missed the feel of a bright sun on his face and warm soil under his feet.

“What do you think he does here all alone, man? Fucking ancient Commie base and shit. Nothing to do, no one around. Christ, probably spends all day jacking off to Russian bestiality porn or something.”

“You're letting your imagination run wild again. Plenty of martial artists seek solitude where they can meditate in peace.” Though in all honesty, Ryu himself wasn't too convinced of his own words either. No, that wasn't what he needed to concentrate on now. He dug out the small portable gas burner from his pack.

The canned beans they opened up were mushy and grey, adding little to the instant noodles they cooked up. The peaches were a treat however, and they opened up another two tins of them before they packed up and retreated to their room.

“You gotta admit that something's wrong about this place...” Ken leaned in and muttered.

Ryu nodded. It was certainly unsettling. There was no noise beyond the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights, the soft padding of their bare feet against the icy floor and the swish of their clothes. Very unnatural. The air was cold, and a staleness seemed to cling to it, a scent of age and dust and abandonment.

“He didn't even make any small talk, just down to business and shit.” Ken blinked, “Crap, he really IS just like you.”

Ryu shook his head, “I suppose we shouldn't judge by his appearance, but there's certainly something wrong.”

“Look, I'm not scared or anythin', but let's just get back to the train station and camp out there. We can come back in the morning.”

Ryu wasn't one to reject another's hospitality, and even if he had to he'd at least meet up with their eccentric host and gently explain himself. Still, Ryu didn't want to spend another moment in this place either.

“All right.”

It took a while to navigate the maze of corridors. Eventually however they found themselves at the elevator doors. Sighing with relief, Ken pressed the big red button.

There was no response.

Ken pressed the button again. Then jabbed it repeatedly. There was no sound of machinery, no whoosh of the carriage through the shaft. Just silence, as if the elevator had been turned off.

The two young warriors glanced at each other, and each found the same worried expression gazing back.

 


	2. The Price of Defeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please refer to the content warning. Physically and sexually violent scene to follow.

It had been a long time since he'd thought of himself as Arkady Rossovich.

He could still remember his first time. The muffled screams, the feeling of the young man's struggles subsiding under his grip. It was a messy job... more blood than he'd realized. He hadn't known what he was doing, much like his first time skinning a rabbit. Yet as with that mangled rabbit, it'd been a learning experience.

Arkady had only gone through nine before he was caught. His own stupid fault really... it was a small town, with few other eccentrics to blame. The police had trudged up to his shack to investigate, and one glance at the red stains on his floor was enough to arouse suspicion. He'd been able to kill one of them to make his escape. Only nine... he never counted the life of the officer officially. Pity it hadn't been a proper ten before he was caught.

At first he'd been sure that it would be a quick and simple end. Bullet in the head, his blood on the snow... nice and clean. He'd smiled at the thought. He always loved the spray of crimson against virgin snow, and the fact that it was going to be his own made no difference. Even with the muzzle pressed straight into his skull though the execution was botched. High bone density, the doctors would say later. Remarkable stamina, exceptional strength. No wonder he'd been able to evade capture for so long.

And then came the pact with the turnip-faced Party official who offered him clemency in exchange, the experiments, the surgeries. Once he stepped out of the recovery room he'd shed the name Arkady Rossovich, and taken up a new one as the new super-soldier of the Soviet era.

Omega Red.

He waited patiently in the old training room that morning. His eyes were closed, his hands rested on his knees. Concentrating intently he could hear the distant slaps of bare feet against the icy floor, the panicked breaths, even the rapid heartbeat against the boy's chest. He tilted his head back, a soft hiss filling the air as he imagined the heat of the boy's flesh, the pulse of sweet youthful life-force in his veins.

Ryu was getting closer.

The double doors creaked open as the young martial artist entered. His face was pink. His chest heaved. That mop of chestnut hair was in disarray and his _gi_ was unbelted, as if he'd just awoken and thrown on his clothes. Those dark brown eyes were wide with panic.

“Where... where's Ken?” he demanded, taking a moment to catch his breath. “I woke this morning and he wasn't in the bunk above me. I've looked everywhere!”

“Quite safe, I assure you. I stored him away, to make sure it's just the two of us.”

“You deactivated the elevators last night.” Ryu's voice was stern yet smooth. Strange for someone so young to sound so authoritative.

“A security matter, I assure you. I do not like to be disturbed by random outsiders.” Omega Red quickly turned his head one way, then snapped it the other, cracking the joints of his neck. “Except of course for those who would challenge me.”

“Let me see that Ken is all right,” Ryu said carefully, those dark eyebrows furrowing. “Please.”

A giddy sensation crackled through the old Soviet soldier then. His heart pounded with excitement, a cruel smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. He practically shuddered with glee at the thought of the blond one scrabbling away in his little cell.

“No.”

Omega Red cracked his knuckles.

 

__________

 

 

“FUCK! LET ME OUT YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”

Ken howled in the cramped chamber he was locked in. The metal slab he laid on was ice cold, as were the walls. He grunted as he cracked his heels at the heavy square door, two feet on a side. His feet ached, his skin was numb with the chill. All he wore were the red boxers he'd gone to bed with.

The first thing he realized was that he'd been drugged the night before. Maybe it was the food. Maybe gas that'd been pumped into their bedroom. No, that didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting the fuck OUT.

The problem was that the slab he'd been laid out on slid back and forth with each kick, muting the force of each blow. Planting his hands against the opposite wall helped a little, and he could feel the door starting to give.

He could do this. He had powerful legs, so much so that his leaping uppercut could reach the sky.

_Come. The. Fuck. ON!_

Finally, with the snap of fatigued metal, the door crashed open.

With a push against the wall behind his head the slab rolled forward, and fresh air kissed his skin. The sterile fluorescent light blinded Ken for a moment, and he hissed as he covered his face, writhing until he rolled over the edge and flopped messily onto the concrete floor.

“Ryu you better not have seen that...” he growled as he picked himself up, hoping the guy wasn't in the room. Then again, he hadn't heard any other yelps or yowls nearby, so...

Ken rubbed his eyes as they readjusted, then blinked as he took in his surroundings. His blood ran cold.

The room was a morgue. He'd just pushed himself out of one of those wall-to-wall fridges that was used to store corpses. He'd just rolled off of a slab that had probably carried one at some point. Ken wanted scream, and the crawling sensation that ran along his back went up along his scalp and seemed to pour into his brain. Never in his life had he wanted to take a shower so badly.

His red karate-gi lay in a messy pile on the table in front of him. Grabbing it he dressed himself quickly, shivering when thick cotton draped against shoulders that'd grown numb and cold against the metal surface. Fuck this challenge. It wouldn't be about testing himself this time... Ken wanted to fucking _maul_ the chalk-faced asshole who stuffed him in there.

The thought receded the moment he noticed what lay in the middle of the room.

A metal slab, with a white sheet covering it. A pair of rough bare feet lay uncovered at the end. Limp, callused fingers peeked out from beneath the cloth.

“R-Ryu...?” Ken trembled as he tiptoed towards the body. No, it couldn't be. It... it couldn't...

Pulling away the cloth Ken made a strangled, horrified sound. Short black hair, glassy eyes that stared at nothing... bloodstained lips framed a mouth open as if in a scream. But it wasn't Ryu. Thank fucking God.

Ken shuddered, but just as he was about to look away from the corpse something pricked at the back of his mind. He pulled the sheet down lower, just below the poor guy's chest, revealing the collar and cut of a taekwondo uniform.

“Oh fuck...” Ken whispered. The martial artists. The former challengers. Is _this_ what they all came to?!

Stepping away, trying to keep his legs from collapsing out from under him, Ken pushed through the double doors out of the morgue and ran down the halls.

 

__________

 

 

There was something about these cocksure little rustics that Omega Red loved. Perhaps it was their grubby origins... almost all of them came from small towns or villages, scraping their way up the pecking order to become the best fighters in their little locales. Always satisfying to put a little upstart like that in his place.

Or perhaps it was how archaic their goals were. A few solid bullets was all it took to put a man down these days... cleaner and more efficient than a brawl in an alley or a noontime duel on the beach. Warriors these days were defined by their weapons training, not by the sweat on their brows or their callused fists or feet. With threadbare martial arts uniforms and return-to-nature quests they would've fit in perfectly a few hundred years ago. Perhaps it was a bit ironic for a relic of the Soviet era to loathe these obsolete heroes. Yet whereas his murderous skills were born of modern science, these young romantics trained themselves only out of worn-out nostalgia.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to play along for a few minutes, just to savor things from their point of view.

Ryu let out a sharp “ _Ki-yah!_ ” as he leapt, turning in the air so that the free ends of his white headband trailed behind him. The boy's heel cracked against Omega Red's upraised palm. He could feel the jolt crack through the bones of his wrist, the force conducted along the length of his arm and down to his shoulder. He'd braced himself, and turned with the blow when Ryu's waist twisted. The boy spun in the air, lashing out again with his other leg so that his heel cracked against the Russian's cheek.

The blows jolted against his body, knuckles wrapped in leather smashed into his face from one side, then the other. Kicks hammered at his gut, rammed up from under his chin. Omega Red staggered back, grunting with the assault. Once his back hit the wall Ryu stopped, panting for breath.

Pushing himself upright, Omega Red grinned, licking his teeth. His face was a bit tender, and he may have cut the inside of his cheek on an incisor, but nothing he'd taken would even leave a bruise.

“Is that all, boy?” he chuckled. “Not bad, compared to others I've fought. But you're still far beneath me.”

“What... what are you?” the lad panted, eyes wide with shock that a body could take so much punishment.

“Something that is no longer human.”

The coiled carbonadium tendrils burst from his wrists.

Ryu gasped and rolled to the side just as the metal serpents cracked against the ground. Instinct and lightning-quick perception no doubt honed from years of training were all that saved him, and he leaped back as two tendrils came at him, sweeping towards him from both sides.

The boy somersaulted in the air, trailing the tails of that headband behind him along with drops of sweat scattered in his retreat. Youthful agility and springy feet had gotten him three meters of distance, and he landed on his palms and on the ball of each foot like a cat. The momentum caused him to trail back, the pads of his fingers and toes squeaking on the concrete, but even that wasn't enough distance to clear him of Omega Red's deadly coils.

Omega red shot a glistening tentacle towards him, stretching the full length between them.

Quicker than Ryu could blink, the coil had snapped around his wrist with lightning speed. He cried out in pain as with a ferocious tug Omega Red whipped the boy forward half the distance, and Ryu grunted as he landed hard on the concrete floor. He wheezed for breath: chest no doubt aching, guts jostled with the force of slamming into the ground. The kid howled then, struggling, as the sharp, tearing pain burned through his shoulder... the force of those cables had nearly ripped the kid's arm off.

Ryu grabbed the taut metal tendril with his other hand, trying to regain control. Bare feet scrabbled and squeaked against the floor, desperate to find purchase. With a strong tug of his own however he pulled himself upright, first onto his knees, then hopping up onto his feet. Digging in his heels the boy gritted his teeth, trying to pull away from the blood-eyed beast.

Omega Red grinned, and began to feed.

The boy screamed in agony as a thousand icy needles seemed to stab into his wrist where the coils met flesh. Even his leather wrist guard provided little protection. While the sensation would be duller there, it still burned with the blistering ache of bone-deep frostbite.

With his prey wobbling on his toes, knees buckling, the old Russian soldier savored the experience. A boy squirming in agony, trapped, the life force draining from him ever so slowly. Back in the day when he was a mere serial killer this was all he'd needed. Yet now he could feel the boy's vitality itself ebbing. It pulsed warmly along his carbonadium tendrils like blood through an artery, hot and rich and nourishing. Omega Red drank it in, feeling his heartbeat quicken with the delicious thrill, the warm sweetness of the young fighter's energy. Leather creaked as his grip grew tighter. Muscles clenched as old aches and raw itches from his scars faded.

True he'd only just had his fill the day before when he'd drained the Korean into a lifeless husk, and that would last for a few more weeks. Yet fresh meat was so much more revitalizing.

A heel cracked into Omega Red's face.

His coil lost its grip as he staggered back with a grunt, colors bursting across his vision. Thrashing about blindly for a moment to fend off any further blows, Omega Red snarled as his eyes cleared. Damn! He'd never gotten so drunk from the experience before. He'd truly lost himself in the feeding at that moment.

When he looked up again Ryu was getting up to his feet. A fresh coat of cold sweat beaded on his skin, and there was a slight clamminess to it as if he'd just gotten out of a sickbed.

“Mmm. Quite impressive, boy,” Omega Red grunted as he rubbed his face with one hand, “You have a well of energy in you that few possess. Most men would be on their knees after that.”

“Wh-where is Ken?” the boy demanded, gasping with strained breath.

Omega Red chuckled. “You'll have to defeat me before I'll say...”

 

__________

 

 

Ryu knew that Omega Red was toying with him.

He stumbled weakly, panting with exhaustion as he dodged another snap of those vampiric cables. The ground seemed to tilt beneath him as his feet squeaked against the concrete. Ever since that coil gripped his arm and that terrible crackling pain shot through him he'd felt weak and feverish, like he was recovering from the flu, or had been drained a couple pints of blood.

Dizzy as he was, Ryu's mind was frantic as he searched for a weakness. So long as he kept four meters away he was safe from the prehensile tendrils, and at the very least he had enough time to dodge each swing if they were closer. Yet the room itself was eight meters on a side and Omega Red stood at the center of it, forcing Ryu against the walls. He needed to roll past to get to the door, or get in close somehow and take out the old soldier...

He needed to _fight_!

Dodging carefully, dancing between the cables as they shot out at him, Ryu leaped into the air as the coils came together and cracked against one another, forming a tangle of braided metal. He spun in the air, snapping his heel out in an arc to catch Omega Red in the face once more. The ice-skinned Russian was tougher than any fighter he'd known, taking a dozen blows to the head already, but that had at least been enough to stun the creature momentarily.

Ryu jumped onto Omega Red's shoulders, thighs tight around the man's neck in an attempt to stem the flow of oxygen to his brain. Sharp grunts filled the air as he drove both fists into the top of Omega Red's skull, again and again, punctuating Ryu's breaths with the sound of knuckle against bone.

The cables thrashed blindly, and Omega Red stumbled with the disciplined young warrior riding his shoulders, snarling and spitting as the blows cracked his skull. Yet gradually Ryu's arms were getting sore. His chest ached as if the cold, dry air were grinding away at his lungs. Yet he kept the pressure on his foe's neck tight, he needed to render this monster unconscious before he could search for Ken...

Yet even with the blows rattling his oxygen-starved brains, the Russian still had the strength to raise his arms. In an instant the tendrils snapped around his torso like metal bands while Ryu had his arms upraised, crushing the breath from him like a giant anaconda.

“Ghk!”

With one forceful tug he was ripped from Omega Red's shoulders and thrown violently to the ground. The jolt hammered deep down into his guts.

The tendrils fell against him then. Ryu raised his arms to shield himself, yet they cracked against his body, beating him like a storm of rods. They came from all directions, fast as lightning, a rapid tempest of flashing pain. Ryu's shrill cries filled the air, echoing back at him from the concrete walls. Bone-deep bruises were hammered into his forearms. Sharp, crackling blows broke against his shins. Angry red welts were laid into his thighs, and each strike against his ribs knocked the breath from his lungs so that he was choking for a gulp of air.

He was still howling when his flesh began to grow numb against the pain, and that was when the beating stopped.

Face flushed, cheeks stained with tears, Ryu curled into a ball and panted, trying to regain his senses.

Before he could react, those tendrils once again wrapped around him, and again he felt that tingling, electrifying pain shooting through his body.

If one thought that Ryu had been beaten senseless, to the point where new pain would be nothing more than sauce for the old, they'd be wrong. Ryu arched back, writhing as a pitched whine escaped his throat. The breath was being crushed from him, smothering any screams that he could've made. In an instant those tendrils had hardened once more. The chill of the concrete against his cheek was a lover's caress compared to the ice-cold metal wrapping his torso.

His strength was being drained from him. With each spasm of agony Ryu could feel his life-force flooding along those coils in pulses. He could feel the heat draining from his cheeks, the strength bleeding from his limbs. Desperately he huffed for breath, trying to get enough air in his lungs so he could shriek. And still the coils tightened around him... squeezing his ribs until they creaked, crushing his soft organs through his unprotected belly.

An eternity of pain seemed to pass before it stopped, and warmth gradually began to recede into his flesh.

Slowly the tentacles loosened, and the mundane sensations returned to him. The weak, fluttering heartbeat pounding in his ears. The feeling of air scraping through his raw throat as he struggled to breathe. The chill of cold concrete pressing into his chest as he lay on the ground, and the warm dampness spreading along his crotch. Whether it was the pressure of the coils compressing his bladder or his own mortal terror that'd loosened it, he'd wet himself, and his shame was puddling beneath him.

Omega Red was silent as Ryu's arms lifted. His whole body aching. Weak as a young kitten taking its first steps, Ryu huffed. His toes scraped against the floor as he tried to lift himself up. Each twitch, each movement felt like it was sending thousands of needles deep into his guts. The best he could manage was an unsteady crawl.

“Impressive, boy...” Omega Red chuckled, his boots thudding against the ground as he approached. “Even without the flogging warriors twice your age would be near death from that. The few who remain conscious usually can't twitch a single muscle.”

“Wh-where... is... Ken...?”

Ryu swallowed when he felt the warm saliva trickling down his chin. With the ache from the dozens of bruises over his body, the blistering sear of those tendrils, and the cramps that turned his muscles to water and twisted his guts into knots, he'd forgotten to swallow.

“Alive for now...” Omega Red murmured as if it was an idle musing. “You really are something, aren't you? So full of life. So much energy in you. You Japanese call it _ki_ , don't you? Well, you're quite a wellspring of it, boy... and that's what I need as sustenance. I think that I've finally found a pair of warm bodies that can feed me for a long time.”

The metal tendrils started to lick against the inner edges of Ryu's bare feet, his toes sticky with sweat and damp with piss.

“N-no...” Ryu croaked tearfully, “D-don't...”

“Yes...”

Ryu whined when those long metal tongues licked along his ankles, sliding under the frayed cuffs of his _gi_ leggings. They seemed to have a warmer touch now... alive and vibrant, like hungry snakes as they curled around his calves, sliding up along his thighs. He could feel them slipping beneath his tight black _obi_ , wrapping around his torso in a double helix beneath the loose sleeveless _uwa-gi_ and spiraling up to his chest. His stomach turned over on itself, a visceral reflex upon being molested so. Yet his body no longer had the strength to writhe.

Ryu gasped as he felt the coils tense suddenly, and they suddenly expanded outward. The cotton burst away from his skin like a pricked balloon, shreds of white cloth spiraling as they rained down like falling leaves.

“A-ahhh!” Ryu mewled as he tried to curl in on himself. His gloved hands trembled as he tried to move then down to cover his exposed sex. The air that gusted over his skin lapped the clammy sweat from his body, once again lighting up those pink streaks from where those tentacles had touched him. They felt tender and raw, like day-old sunburns.

Once again the tendrils clamped down on him, tightening around his flesh until his body creaked under the strain. They held him fast like glistening anacondas, pressing his arms against his sides. Fighting for air, Ryu nonetheless released a soft whine as he was dragged closer to his foe.

There was no icy pain this time, no suckling of his body's _ki_. Ryu panted when he was turned over on his back, half-blinded from the sweaty auburn bangs that fell over his eyes and clung to his face. Even though it was useless he squirmed in his bonds... he felt so vulnerable being stripped naked before his opponent, so _exposed_.

“Prepare yourself, boy... living down here by myself for all this time, I have more appetites that need sating...”

Ryu jolted when he heard the unmistakable clink of a belt buckle. The tentacles around his thighs pulled them back so that his feet were lifted into the air. His buttocks tightened, spreading wide as his knees were pressed into his sides, revealing the hidden rosebud blooming in that sweaty valley.

“N-n-nooo!” Strange that such a small thing would unman him so... even facing death incarnate, Ryu's cheeks burned with the shame of someone seeing his exposed anus.

And then the blood-red cloth parted as the Russian loomed over him, revealing pale blond curls flecked with gray, like the sun-bleached hair of a corpse. That snow-white shaft had become engorged, sticky need drizzling from the eager tip.

“It has been so long since I've had a boy... so sweaty, stinking of musk and pride. Bodies raging with energy, so ready to start a fight or to force a girl into the sheets. Nothing's sweeter, kid... especially when boys like you start squirming.” Omega Red growled hungrily as he knelt, swirling his thumb around the rim of that blushing pucker. Ryu tightened at that filthy touch, at Omega Red's perverse chuckle. “My my... isn't this cute. You're pink as a baby back here...”

“N-no! NO! S-stop this! Don't do this!” Ryu yowled, twisting his head this way and that, kicking his ankles and clenching his fists. Even if he hadn't been drained of his strength all his struggling wouldn't have loosened his bonds an inch. At most he'd just rubbed his skin raw against the cables.

Ryu clenched just jaw when he felt the bone-dry finger forcing its way in, so suddenly that he almost bit through his tongue.

“ _Hrgk!_ ”

Ryu could feel it forcing into him in one smooth thrust, sliding all the way down to the knuckle. It burned inside him, coupled with a sharp tearing pain as if he'd been impaled with an awl. He twisted in his bonds, tried to plant a heel in his assailant's face, yet the metal cords held his thighs tight. Even doing his best Ryu's ankles could only twitch feebly above him, and only air passed between his still-damp toes.

A second finger joined the first, and a third, lubricated only by a thin film of sweat from palms clammy with excitement. Each one sharpened the pain further, leaving a burning sensation flaring throughout the warm, tender tunnel inside him.

Omega Red grinned over him, twisting those dry digits inside with a cruel ferocity. They forced in and out, tugging at that band of muscle and opening up his body. Ryu could feel the wetness trickling down his cheeks then, the breath seizing in his throat. The convulsions that ran through him left him unable to scream, and only a hoarse, choking sob could escape his lips as he was sodomized.

“You've got quite an agreeable cunt, boy,” Omega Red growled, lips peeled back in a predatory grin, “Most boys bleed like a girl with this much inside him already. Tell me, does your little pussy already know the touch of a male? Perhaps that pretty blond one, eh?”

“D-don't... touch him...” Ryu wheezed, “I... I won't forgive you if you hurt him!”

“He seems more the type to prefer girls though,” the old Russian chuckled. “Which is even better. The straight ones break down so much once they feel a man forcing themselves inside for the first time.”

Ryu's protests were silenced when he felt a fourth finger tickling his tailbone.

Ken always had a fondness for pranks, especially ones that would shock Ryu's “little virgin mind” as he called it. Often they involved inappropriate touches, or lurid comments to girls made in front of Ryu that would leave him blushing. Sometimes Ken would show him all manner of obscene materials on his laptop.

One such video came to mind then: of a man whose arm glistened with grease all the way up to his elbow, and a young Asian tied down with his legs spread. “He looks kinda like you!” Ken had chuckled, before the pitched moans poured out of the speakers. It'd horrified Ryu at the time, the idea that the human body could be stretched so far, that something so large could slide so deep.

That fourth finger slid in with the rest, stretching him to the point of tearing. Ryu seized, gasping as his asshole was lit on fire by the four digits wedged through it, as if preparing for a full fist to force its way through. A piercing sensation ran through him, and he could feel a warm bead of liquid budding along the edge of his hole.

“S-s-stop!” Ryu's voice came out in a pitched squeal. “N-no more! Take it out! _Take it out!_ ”

That burning sensation spread throughout his rectum in a searing flash when Omega Red withdrew, pale fingers laced with crimson smudges. For a moment the old soldier's compliance surprised Ryu, who dared to crane his head forward in surprise. He panted for breath, nervous sweat still trickling down his brow. Omega Red was gripping his shaft at the base now, its tip moist and dripping with his eagerness.

“No... NO!” Ryu cried, wriggling his ass in a futile attempt to deny his captor.

With one hand pressing down on Ryu's tight stomach, the soldier grinned as he forced that bulbous head inside his prey's body.

“ _AAAHGK!_ ”

Omega Red slid in with one forceful stroke, savaging his prey with wild abandon and merciless brutality. The few drops of precum made for scant lubricant for the tip, and the remaining length was dry as a bone. Ryu wheezed and moaned, tears trailing down his cheeks as that thick white shaft scoured his raw insides.

Cruel, coarse laughter rang against the concrete walls, cresting over Ryu's cries of pain and humiliation. Stringy blond hair fell over the old Russian's shoulders, tickling Ryu's skin as those strands swung back and forth with each thrust.

“Aah! Aah! Aah!” he wailed tearfully as the shaft speared him again and again. His hot, terrified breaths seemed to mist out in the chill air.

Omega Red snorted above him like a wild animal: nostrils flaring, the bridge of his nose scrunched up. Pale, bloodless lips peeled back in a grimace, revealing teeth that shone like steel and glistened with saliva. His body was tensing in spasms. Icy hands clenched Ryu's thighs, nails gouging his flesh and drawing crescents of blood. The coils tightened around his body, crushing his arms against his sides.

Ryu had seen a snake being fed once, as he and Ken were browsing a pet store in Tokyo. Granted Ken was more interested in the girl behind the counter, but Ryu was looking through the rows of cages when the shopkeeper dropped a mouse into the tank.

At first the mouse was merely curious, sniffing at the long black creature it'd been placed with. The snake stared at its prey, flicking its tongue. For a little while the pair seemed to be feeling one another out, neither quite knowing what to make of the other. Suddenly, without warning, it struck.

Fangs bit down on the poor rodent's head, while a flexible body moved like a whip, wrapping around it in an instant. The mouse's feet kicked in a panic, scratching wildly at the snake's scaly hide as the breath was being squeezed out of it. Gradually its strength waned, its kicking became more feeble as the creature continued to constrict, tighter and tighter. Drops of urine beaded at the mouse's crotch as the pressure against its organs forced out everything its little body could expel.

Finally it was dead, though the snake held it for a while still, its jaws slowly working down the mouse's body.

Ryu had winced then, but had understood the natural order of things. Now though he fully understood the terror of the little mouse, its panic and suffering as it struggled.

His ribs creaked as the tendrils tightened around him. His mouth was open as he tried to gasp for air that refused to fill his lungs. Pain bloomed deep inside his abdomen as his organs were being crushed by metal bands without and by a thick, throbbing shaft from within. Something inside seemed to give under the pressure, as liquid warmth trickled along his urethra and dampened his belly. Above all, Ryu could feel the pressure of his insides being forced around his rectum, every ounce of flesh in his abdomen squeezing that tunnel and making him impossibly tight for his rapist's pleasure.

Spots danced across his vision as the thick shaft pulsed inside him, pumping a hot, liquid fullness into his body with each spasm. It clung to his insides, thick and viscous. The warmth of that liquid seed soothed the burning ache inside him somewhat, but his stomach still turned at the thought of being soiled with another man's semen.

Ryu wheezed, tears trailing down the corner of his eyes as his opponent withdrew, burning him deep as the flared tip of that pale cock scraped along his insides one last time. A moan of relief filled the air when it finally popped free, leaving a lingering soreness in its wake.

“Sweetest lay I ever had...” Omega Red grinned.

Something seemed to flick on inside Ryu then, and the sensation started to twist his abdomen. The convulsions worked up his chest and throat in hiccups, and Ryu twitched weakly as the involuntary spasms shook his body. His stomach clenched, and with it the well of heat that'd been poured inside him trickled out, moistening that rosebud and crawling down his tailbone in slimy rivulets.

He felt so used-up. So broken.

“Don't pity yourself too much, kiddo...” Omega Red chuckled, “You're one tough little sonuvabitch. Most warriors would barely cling to life by now. Even when I'm real gentle with the draining, they pass out by the time I get the coils around their bodies. More surface area for me to absorb their life-force, see. Ankle or wrist just numbs 'em at worst... gotta be real careful not to kill 'em once I snap 'em around their middles.

“But you...” the coils started to unwind from Ryu's thighs as the old Russian continued, “You can take a damn fine beating, son. I don't have to restrain myself with you. Might finally be able to feed nice and deep until I'm satisfied...”

Ryu seized when he felt the cold metal tip probing his slimy anus.

“N-no! NO!” Ryu wailed.

“You should be proud, kid. I think you'd be the first to survive this feeding.”

Ryu's shrieks rang through the chamber as the icy tendril forced its way inside him.

 


	3. Through Both Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp that's the end of that! Might do a sequel sometime with Ryu and Ken in captivity. As you guys can probably tell it's based off of the Omega Red ending from X-Men VS Street fighter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hyh61GbMA5U
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed! Please do tell me what you think in the comments, I always love feedback.

Ken could feel the blood pounding in his ears, the sharp ache in his toes as he scrambled through the halls. Running from door to door while perched on the balls of his feet to stay quiet wasn't something he was used to, especially not on such hard floors. Yet quick and catlike, he checked each room carefully, listening for the sound of an occupant and looking for the edge of light beneath each door.

Most rooms were old offices, with dusty old computers and rusted gray file cabinets. Others were just as pedestrian: storage rooms with dried up mops and stained buckets, or living quarters with bare mattresses and empty drawers.

Others revealed things that fed his terror further.

Down one hall was a row of cells, with lingering telltale signs of their previous occupants: the familiar odor of a boy's room that hadn't been aired out in ages, like the stink of old laundry. Chains bolted to the walls, and padded leather cuffs scratched with the teeth of prisoners that'd gone mad in their confinement. Rags and sheets lay in piles in some corners, marred with rust-red stains. A pair of workout shorts. The remnants of a tank top. Fingerless sparring gloves, the leather old and scuffed.

None of these chambers were occupied, though Ken didn't know whether he should be relieved or horrified. It was like he'd entered the lair of a spider, and seeing one victim's husk had been enough. Yet finding anyone else alive would've taken the edge off of the dreadful sense of abandonment that chased him.

He needed to find Ryu, before the both of them fell into Omega Red's clutches.

 

__________

 

 

“Hush, kiddo... don't clench so much. It's going in so nice and easy now, see?”

Several feet of metal had already worked deep inside his prey, slithering through warm, moist guts. Omega Red could feel the spasms of muscle working against his tendril, the reflexive convulsions of a body that had never dealt with such a cruel invader before, nor against one working so deep.

Ryu's ankles twisted in Omega Red's grip, toes writhing with each inch that crawled further into his body. The boy's face had grown pink, moist with sweat and tears as he still tried to fight it like a good little warrior.

Ryu had demanded it stop at first, as if he still had the right to call his body his own. Panicked demands, spat out in terrified stutters, yes. But they were demands nonetheless. It didn't take long for him to start begging.

“P-please stop...” he whimpered. Ryu's voice was soft, his words came out in labored gasps as he struggled to breathe. “I-it... h-hurts...”

He was such a cute little thing, and Omega Red could already feel the twitchings of a new erection beginning to bud. Granted the boy had another hole he could use, but the old Russian couldn't trust the kid not to bite.

Still, might as well stuff it with something.

“N-no... ple- _mrph_!”

His pleas now muffled by the free end of the other coil, Ryu's squirming came with renewed vigor.

Eyes widened in terror as the tendril was forced past his lips, clacking against Ryu's teeth. It pressed against his tongue, sliding down his throat. His back arched suddenly, and he twisted violently in the grip of those taut metal bands as the gag reflex kicked in, abdomen twisting up tight as he squeezed down on the invaders at both ends.

The little warrior's fingers scraped against the concrete floor. His toes curled and splayed. Unable to speak, unable to breathe, the fighter could only struggle. And that, too, was waning as one tentacle snaked down his esophagus, while the other slithered up through his intestines to meet in the middle.

Now.

Pain filled Omega Red's prey from his moist lips to his burning asshole, as the old Russian drained Ryu from his deep inner core. A flood of energy crackled through his appendages, the young warrior's life-force gushing out of his body and through those carbonadium bands in pulses, thick and hot as magma.

Liquid fire poured into the old soldier's veins. Old and long-ignored aches eased. Muscles that had forgotten the weight of their fatigue grew taut. His heartbeat quickened, his pale cheeks took on a fresh new glow. He could feel Ryu's warmth filling him, renewing his strength with a power like no other.

A funny thing happened when a body was near death. Omega Red had seen it many times before in his past victims. A certain euphoria overtakes them, and their bodies seem to know that this is the end. They spend their final moments in a wild frenzy of need. A final carnal urge swells up as if they must squeeze out one last moment of breeding, in a desperate and vain attempt to continue their bloodline before they die. It wasn't unusual, if the death was slow and tender enough, for a victim to slip from the bonds or mortality sporting a partial erection. On occasion his u

Ryu's pupils shrank back into small, dark beads. Convulsions wracked him to his core. His back arched, his fingers and toes curled tight. A sheen of sweat coated his body. His tongue pressed against one tendril, saliva flooding from the corner of his lips. His rectum squeezed down tight against the other, almost enough to prevent it from sliding in further. What came was no longer the terrified thrashings of a boy being violated, but something entirely new.

His penis was flaccid. His scrotum was tight and shrunken in the cold. Yet that little lump of flesh that had never felt the inner warmth of a lover's body twitched, and the last ounce of life in him spilled out. Milky white strands squirted into the air and splashed on cold metal coils, trickling down clammy flesh and dripping onto cold concrete.

Omega Red sighed in contentment, and drank in one final gulp of Ryu's life-force. An electric shudder, a moment's elation to his prey's despair, and all was still.

Ryu dangled limp and quiet, impaled by two metal coils. There wasn't a twitch from his clammy fingers. Those half-lidded eyes didn't blink. That last ounce of Ryu's inner heat, the one ounce that Omega Red couldn't steal, dripped down his nuts. It formed a slimy little puddle on the floor. His semen had been wasted on the concrete, and there it would grow cold and crust over. That seed would never take root within a lover's body.

With a wet, suckling sound Omega Red withdrew. Most days he wouldn't care if he disemboweled his victims or not, but with this boy he was careful. Ryu's head rolled back as the tendril slid free from his lips, ropy saliva clinging between cold flesh and warm metal. His abused anus was pink and puffy as the other end popped free: the elasticity had been fucked out of that ring of muscle. Those coils unwound from Ryu's body, and Omega Red gently laid the young warrior on the ground.

The boy's flesh was cold. His skin was chalky and pale, clammy like a corpse's. Yet the boy still breathed in soft, ragged huffs, barely audible. His flesh was weak, drained, holding onto his final scrap of life even now.

Omega Red grinned. He'd been right that the kid was strong, that the boy was one of those rare, tough little cookies that could survive a deeper feeding. A few days of rest in the recovery tanks and he would be able to drink his fill again.

He clenched his fist tight. His grip was stronger. His body lighter. It felt as if he was twenty years younger already. Ever since he'd been transformed he'd been unable to satisfy his hunger, yet for the first time in decades he felt... satiated. Supped full and content. It felt good.

The door to the chamber slammed open, and Omega Red looked up.

Ah. The little pup's partner.

“Ryu! _Ryu!!!_ ” Ken cried out when he saw his friend lying on the ground.

Omega Red stepped back as Ken dashed past him and fell to his knees. Crouching on the ground, the boy cradled the body of his companion. For a moment he shook the cold, pale form, trying to rouse it. Yet as the seconds ticked past and Ryu still lay half-dead, those pretty features began to twist into a grimace. Tears of sorrow and rage trailed down Ken's cheeks.

“Why... damn you, why?!” Ken snarled, looking up. “How many lives have you ended?!”

“Do you count the number of breaths you've taken?” Omega Red purred, a cruel smile splitting his face.

“You bastard!!!”

In a flash of red cloth and trailing blond hair, Ken leaped in with an uppercut. Yet freshly invigorated, Omega Red sidestepped it easily and struck back. His red gauntlet cracked the boy across the face, and Ken spun as he fell, grunting as he slammed into the concrete.

“Young fool...” Omega Red murmured. He'd have to be careful for now... he'd never fed this well before, and with his new strength he'd almost snapped the kid's neck.

Still, Omega Red supposed that another snack wouldn't hurt.

The tendrils burst free from his wrists, and once more the shrieks of a young warrior rang through the compound. It wasn't long between the halls were silent once again.

 


End file.
